I really don’t want to find out.
“Alyssa, call for Alex,” she said. “Their boat’s probably fine. Everybody, point your flashlights straight up. Maybe she’ll be able to see them more easily.”
“Alex!” Alyssa yelled. “Alex, Alex, Alex!”
They did as she asked, creating a beam that Brynn hoped would be visible through the fog. Maybe that guy with Alex had been able to call for help. Maybe he had extra life jackets, or some kind of plug, or something to bail with. Or an outboard motor, even.
Then her hand brushed a lumpy wet bundle covered with a light canvas material. Running her hands over it like a blind person, she found the Velcro straps across the front, the two armholes . . .
“Guys!” Brynn squeaked triumphantly. “I think I found a life jacket!” Eagerly, she felt around with her left hand. There was another life jacket there, too.
“I found another one. Check around for more.”
“Okay, on it,” Alyssa told her.
As Brynn listened to the sounds of the search, more water sloshed in the bottom of the boat.
I know how to swim, she reminded herself. And so does everyone else. It’s one of the things we learn at camp.
“Nothing,” Alyssa said. “No jacket.”
“Same here,” Priya said. “Nothing.”
“I didn’t find anything, either,” Candace reported.
“Two life jackets are good,” Brynn said, but she was disappointed.
Hey, we can swim.
In the fog.
In the dark.
In Shadow Lake.
chapter TWELVE
Deep in the woods, smothered in fog, someone—or something ng through the forest. Jenna h herself, to make herself as small as possible, even though kept walking in trees and rocks as she around. She didn’t know which way to go.
“Belle?” she rasped. She could barely utter a syllable with her sore, hoarse throat.
“Girls, where are you?” Clarissa sounding far away.
“I’m here!” Natalie yelled, her voice squeaking. “Is Chelsea with you?”
“No,” Belle said. “Clarissa, where is everybody?”
“Listen to me, listen!” Natalie pleaded. “Someone else is here. Someone held my hand. I thought it was Jenna, but it wasn’t!”
“Calm down, Natalie. It’s just one of the other girls, right, Clarissa?” Belle said. “Alex, or Alyssa—”
“No, Belle,” Clarissa replied, her e floating over the fog. “It’s just Natalie, a, and me.”
“You left the others alone?” lle thundered.
Clarissa’s answer was drowned out by the crashing as it grew louder.
Closer.
Jenna was totally freaking out. She stumbled against a tree and wrapped her arms around it to shield herself, but the noises seemed to be coming from everywhere at once. Her heart was pounding so hard it was about to shatter her rib cage, and she kept twisting around, staring into nothing but a thick cloud of white.
“It’s Cropsy!” Natalie cried. “He’s after us!”
“Are there bears?” Belle yelled.
“No! No bears,” Clarissa replied. Then Jenna distinctly heard her mutter, “I hope.”
Oh, God. Bears. Jenna blinked her eyes rapidly. Her breath was coming in short bursts. She felt dizzy, hot, and cold. Her knees gave way and she fell to the ground, scrabbling to keep hold of her tree.
Through the blankets of white, something howled, high and crazy and angry. It wasn’t human, and it wasn’t a bear, and it was coming straight at Jenna.
She whimpered, eyes darting left, right, unable to see.
“Go away! I’m armed!” Belle yelled.
“Go! Shoo!” Clarissa joined in.
“Run! Everyone run!” Natalie croaked. “It’s Cropsy!”
Jenna went cold all over. Her face was icy, her spine stiff and frozen. She was rooted to the spot, and she was trembling, as if someone had just thrown her into icy Shadow Lake. Dazed, she could hear the others yelling and shouting, trying to frighten their attacker away. Whatever it was, it wasn’t the least bit afraid.
It was bounding closer, closer still . . .
Jenna gripped the tree trunk hard and thought of her brothers and her sister, and her mom and her dad. She started to cry.
I’m going to die, she thought. It’s going to kill me.
Then something knocked Jenna down and drooled hot liquid on her face. Flailing her arms and kicking her legs, she remembered the part of the Cropsy story where he choked Randy into unconsciousness. Was that about to happen to her? Was that blood? Hot breath panted against her face as something held her down.
“Help!” she whispered. Then the thing backed off and started to . . .
. . . bark?
“Jenna!” Belle shouted.
“Monster!” a voice called. “Here, boy! It’s okay. It’s my dog.”
A flashlight beam played in the fog, heading toward Jenna. Then the weight on top of Jenna lifted and crashed away.
Footfalls sounded from several directions, and Jenna slowly got to her feet. She lurched forward, her heart pounding, watching more flashlight beams cast wide angles in the thick mist. She flailed through the fog like the mummy in the old monster movies.
“Belle! I’m over here!” she pleaded. “Clarissa! Nat!”
“I can’t see you,” Belle said.
“Follow my voice,” said the intruder. “The fog’s thinner up here. You’ll be able to see.”
I’m not moving, Jenna thought. Her legs were shaking. She took a step forward and collapsed.
Then leaves shuffled directly behind her. A twig snapped.
She whirled around.
“Jenna?” It was Natalie.
“Nat!” Jenna threw open her arms and they hugged each other tightly. “Who is that guy? What’s going on?”
“Come on up here,” said the voice.
“Hold on.” That was Belle. “Who are you? And what were you doing just now to my campers?”
“My name is Dan Magnusen, and I—ouch!”
“I’ve got him, girls,” Belle said. “He’s telling the truth as far as the fog goes. Follow my voice and you’ll get out of that really thick stuff.”
“Jenna, I don’t want to move. I don’t think I can,” Natalie said.
“Me neither,” Jenna confessed. “I thought . . . I thought he was Cropsy.”
“I did, too.”
“Girls?” Belle called.
“We’re here,” Natalie squeaked.
Footfalls sounded through the undergrowth. Natalie and Jenna squeezed each other fearfully. It was very, very hard for Jenna not to bolt and run away.
“It’s me,” Clarissa said.
Jenna let go of Natalie with one hand and flailed in the fog. “Here, we’re here!” she breathed.
A hand wrapped around hers. “Got you,” Clarissa said. “Got you, too, Natalie. Come on.”
“Clarissa?” Natalie said. “It’s really you, right?”
“It’s really me. Belle? I’ve got them.”
“Follow the sound of my voice,” Belle said.
The three moved carefully. Jenna trembled with each step. She moved jerkily, like a string puppet, as if she had forgotten how to walk. Natalie was shaking like a leaf. She was holding onto Jenna’s hand so tightly that Jenna was beginning to lose feeling in her fingers.
But as they climbed their way up the slope, sure enough, the fog began to thin. She could make out vague shapes—trees, and someone or something standing off in the distance.
As they trudged higher, she could see much better. Belle was behind a guy—Dan—who looked about high-school-senior age, with blond hair and a little goatee. And he only had one arm!
Then she saw that Belle had actually yanked Dan’s other arm around his body and was holding onto it like a kung fu fighter.
“Are you two okay?” she asked Jenna and Natalie.
“Yes,” they said at the same time.
Then a waist-h
igh, golden-haired dog bounded from among the trees and galloped up to Dan, chuffing and sniffing at him. It sat back on its haunches and cocked its head at Belle. It growled softly.
“It’s okay, Monster,” Dan said. His voice was a little familiar. “I’m from town. You’ve probably seen me, if you’ve been to Camp Lakeview before. I work at Wheatly’s Waffle Cones.”
“How do you know we’re from Camp Lakeview?” Belle asked him, still locking his arm behind his body. Before he could answer, she said, “Did that dog hurt either of you? Bite you?”
“No.” But now she knew what the hot liquid was. Yuck. Jenna lifted up her T-shirt and tried to wipe the dog slobber off her face without showing her bra.
Dan shifted uncomfortably in Belle’s grip, but the counselor didn’t ease up on him. There sure was more to Belle than met the eye. She had to be some kind of martial arts expert. And she was pretty fearless. Jenna wondered if she was carrying a gun. She’d said she was armed.
She was very, very glad that Belle was her counselor.
“Answer my question,” Belle said, jerking Dan’s arm. “How do you know we’re from Camp Lakeview? Have you done something to my other campers?”
“Ow.” He rose up on his tiptoes. “We listened in on your campfire.”
Belle’s voice was even sharper. “We?”
“Jeremiah and me. We heard you guys talking about Cropsy and we decided to try to scare you.” He looked like he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him.
Jenna wished she could make that happen.
“A joke,” Belle echoed disdainfully. “All this for a joke. You are in so much trouble,” She looked left, right. “Tell this Jeremiah to show himself. Joke’s over.”
Dan bit his lower lip between his teeth. “Well, ah, he’s with the others.”
“What others? How many of you are there?” Clarissa asked, sounding uneasy.
“Oh, there’s just two of us,” Dan said. “I mean, the others . . . of you.”
“He’s at the campsite?” Belle asked him. “Our campsite?”
“Scaring our campers?” Clarissa said.
“I’m sorry,” Dan said. “I was going to go with him, but Monster got loose. We had him in the truck, but he got out.”
“How were you going to scare them?” Even though she released him, Belle looked like she was about to punch him in the face.
“With a chain saw and a hockey mask. But that’s all,” Dan assured her, and he sounded embarrassed and frightened himself as he rubbed his arm and flexed his hand. “I’m sorry. Really.”
“Not as sorry as you’re going to be.” Belle ran her hands through her black hair. “Clarissa, you never should have left the girls alone.”
“I know.” She hung her head. “I’m really sorry, Belle. We were worried about you and Chelsea. We were just going to look for a few minutes and we got lost.”
“Did you find her?” Jenna asked hopefully.
“No.” Belle exhaled. She looked at Dan. “How about you, scary guy? Did you see a girl with blond hair leave our campsite? Did you see where she went?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, no. We must have left before then.”
Belle whipped her cell phone out of her shorts and punched in numbers. “I’m calling the police. They’re State Troopers here, right?” She glared at Dan.
“Right,” he said.
Maybe because of the distress in his master’s voice, Monster chuffed and trotted over to Dan. Dan absently rubbed Monster’s head between his ears.
“Okay, wait a minute,” Natalie said to him. “You were down by the waterfall, right? Holding my hand?”
“What?” Dan asked. “No. I’ve been up here the whole time.”
“What’s the matter?” Belle asked, sliding a glance toward Natalie as she pressed her phone against her ear.
“I told you,” Natalie wailed. Her eyes welled. “Someone was holding my hand. I thought it was Jenna, but then she was too far away. So then I was hoping . . . Jenna, was it you after all?” Natalie pleaded. “After you went to the bathroom . . . please, if you pranked me somehow . . .”
“Nat, I wish I could tell you it was me,” Jenna said. “But it wasn’t.”
Jenna, Clarissa, and Natalie traded anxious looks. Belle was scowling at Dan, absolutely livid.
“Maybe Mister Dan’s still trying to playing a funny little joke,” she said harshly. “Call your friend out. Now.”
“He’s not here,” Dan insisted. Belle waited, glaring at him, her phone against her ear. “Okay. I’ll try. Jer! Jeremiah!” he bellowed. Monster began to bark.
They all waited.
“Jeremiah!” he yelled again.
Monster howled and danced.
“Hush,” Dan said to the dog. “See?” he said to Belle. “He’s not in this part of the woods.”
She said in a booming voice, “Jeremiah, if you are out here with us and you don’t show yourself immediately, I will have you arrested.”
There was silence.
She gestured for everyone to start moving. “My phone isn’t working,” Belle told Dan. “Give me yours. You must have one?”
“Yeah.” As they walked, he fished in his pocket and handed it to Belle. “But it never works up here.”
Belle punched the buttons and listened. She made a face and shook her head.
“No signal,” she reported. She gave Dan a look. “I’ll just keep this for now.”
She looked over her shoulder at Natalie, Jenna, and Clarissa. “Hurry. Stick together. We’re hustling back to the campsite, now.”
“What about Chelsea?” Jenna asked her, working to keep up with Belle.
“After I know everyone else is safe, I’ll look for her some more,” Belle said, shining her flashlight over every inch of forest ahead and to the sides of them.
Jenna was more afraid than she had ever been in her life. If Natalie was right, there was someone in the woods besides them, Jeremiah, and Dan. Someone who was not one of them.
Please, please let it be his stupid friend Jeremiah, Jenna prayed.
“I have a truck,” Dan told Belle. “There’s a market a few miles down the road. They have a pay phone.”
Belle dipped her head. “Thank God,” she murmured.
Without warning, a jag of lightning stabbed the darkness. Thunder rumbled in response. The skies broke open, and it began to rain. Hard. And cold.
“Keep going!” Belle shouted. “Don’t stop!”
The rain splattered on the tree trunks and the boulders, creating slippery gullies in the soft earth. Jenna slipped and nearly lost her balance several times. Each time, she managed to grab onto a branch or steady herself against a rock. Once, Clarissa grabbed her hand just before she went down. And another time, Natalie helped her. But she was definitely feeling shaky.
“We’re almost there,” Dan shouted over his shoulder as he walked at the head of the line.
Then Monster whined. He snorted and looked at Jenna, sidling up to her so that his soaking wet fur brushed against her leg.
“Oh my God,” Natalie whispered. She grabbed Jenna’s hand. “It’s Cropsy.”
The dog whined again and began to whimper; he danced sideways, stopped, and backed up, running into Jenna.
“Hey!” Jenna yelled. “Dan! Something’s wrong with Monster.”
“Monster, come!” Dan summoned him.
The dog’s hackles rose. Instead of bounding over to Dan, he stood deathly still and began to growl into the shuttered darkness of the woods.
Something dripped onto the back of Chelsea’s head. Something cold and wet.
Her eyes flickered open. She was lying face-down on something soft, lumpy, and terribly dusty. The dust was fast becoming mud. Was it a mattress? Was she in her bunk at Camp Lakeview? Had she been having a dream?
That can’t be right, she thought. We have nice clean mattresses, and it doesn’t rain indoors.
Confused and half-awake, she tried to raise her head, but she was too woozy
. She closed her eyes again and took a deep breath of moist, muddy air. She coughed.
Her ankle was throbbing. The drips came hard and fast.
It’s raining, she realized.
She shifted her weight, rocking back and forth, and managed to roll over onto her back. As she slowly raised her hand over her face, the rain cascaded onto her cheeks and forehead. The cloud-choked moon glistened through a jagged hole about ten feet above her, and she remembered that the ground had given way beneath her feet.
I fell . . . onto a mattress?
Her blood ran cold.
Whose mattress?
She turned her head.
Oh my God!
Chelsea screamed—or she would have, if she hadn’t been so hoarse.
Moonlight and raindrops streamed down onto the bandaged profile of a human body swathed in a sheet. It was a man, lying limp on a large wooden table. Thick wires were attached to his head and his arms. He wasn’t moving. The sheet was wet, outlining his body—chest, sunken stomach, and legs.
She stuffed her hands in her mouth to keep herself from screaming. What had happened to him? Was he dead? A thousand questions shot through her mind. It took a few seconds to realize that she was panting and crawling backward, putting as much distance between herself and the man as possible. She couldn’t feel the pain in her ankle. She couldn’t feel anything. She was shaking violently. Her stomach contracted and her mouth filled with acid. She clenched her lips and she started crying and shaking her head from side to side. But she couldn’t stop staring at him.
What’s wrong with him? Is he . . . is he . . .
“Hey,” she whispered. “Mister, are you hurt?”
As she crawled backward, her foot smacked up against something hard. She jerked around on her hands and knees.
She let out a hoarse cry.
It was another man, this one strapped into a wooden chair. It was one of the thick chair legs that she’d hit. His eyes were closed, his head lolling to one side. There was a metal saucer that might have once been clamped over his head, but it had come unfastened and hung a few inches above him. His face was half gone, rotted away, revealing white bone beneath. His mouth hung open. She could see only blackness inside, no teeth.
Hide and Shriek #14 Page 13